


Common Ground

by junko



Series: Chasing Demons [8]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:31:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byakuya has words with his steward, and then accidentally uses a four-letter one when talking to Rukia about Renji.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Common Ground

Byakuya woke to the sound of rolling thunder. Sleepily, he reached his hand across the bed and… found it empty. “Renji?”

“I’m afraid it’s only me, my lord.” Byakuya blinked fully awake to see his steward holding a tea tray. With his dark hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, Eishirō was a moderately handsome man, but not at all the one Byakuya had hoped to wake up to.

The light in the master bedroom was muted by the rain, but the room was filled with the cozy warmth of a fire.

A perfect day to stay in bed.

Byakuya sat up so that Eishirō could find a place for the tray. It was set for two, but Byakuya could see no trace of Renji anywhere in the suite. Lightning cracked, splitting the sky with a shock of whiteness just beyond the windows. Could that fool be outside in the storm for some reason? Yet Renji couldn’t have gone far; he’d left Zabimaru at the bedside.

Eishirō hesitated, the tray still in his hands and not quite all the way on the bed, seemingly in response to Byakuya’s frowning expression, “Unless my lord would like to try sitting on the floor by the fire? I’m sure the Lady Kuchiki wouldn’t mind.”

“Rukia?” Byakuya repeated, his expression darkening even more. The very last thing he’d wanted to do today was to attempt anything so arduous as sitting seiza and making polite conversation. His plans for this morning had not, in point of fact, included his sister at all. What he’d been looking forward to was spending a lazy morning curled up in bed with Renji, doing not much of anything or possibly a whole lot of nothing. The most he’d hoped to accomplish was a bit of reading, finally finding the last of the frogs on the kimono, and enough snuggling to keep Renji from getting restless and running off somewhere--

\--which he apparently already had.

Byakuya bristled, irritated. Damn that impatient man, anyway. Why hadn’t Renji waited for him to wake? And, he’d left without even saying good-bye.

Then Byakuya noticed that someone had cleared the bedside table of its… artifact. The sheets were fresh. The room had been aired. There were flowers on the dresser. 

This little scene had been orchestrated.

Perhaps Renji had not left--so much as had been swept out with all the other awkward things.

Byakuya’s eyes narrowed dangerously, honing in on Eishirō. “The Lieutenant, where is he?”

“At the onsen, I believe, my lord,” Eishirō said.

He believed? Oh, he knew, all right. “Renji went to the hot springs in this weather, without even taking a change in clothes or his shoes?” Eishirō opened his mouth to respond, but Byakuya continued, “Did you at least allow him the use of our private entrance? Or was he expected to pay?”

Eishirō knew he was in trouble. He stood up straighter, still holding the tray, but bowed his head. “Of course I told the Lieutenant he was welcome to the backdoor. I’m sure he thought to beat the rush given his… special considerations.”

The disapproval of Renji’s tattoos rang through clearly in Eishirō careful phrasing. ‘Special conditions.’ It was body art, not some dread disease!

“Indeed,” Byakuya said icily. “I suppose he’s left thinking I prefer things this way. And while you’ve taken great care to bring Rukia and me food, I expect he left with nothing?”

Eishirō made a miserable sort of sound, and said, “I… well, he had tea, my lord.”

“Unacceptable,” Byakuya said simply. His reistsu fluttered the bed sheets.

The steward dropped to his knees, and, after carefully putting the breakfast tray down on the floor, pressed his forehead to the tatami. “My deepest apologies, my lord. I thought, perhaps—“

“No,” Byakuya cut him off. Thunder and reistsu rattled the window panes. “You’ve not thought at all. Or if you have, it was of the wrong person. While the Lieutenant is in residence, you will make allowances for his preferences. What he desires, I desire.”

After a harsh intake of breath, Eishirō stammered, “M-m-my lord?” Surprise brought Eishirō’s eyes up to briefly meet Byakuya’s. The steward looked stricken and pale. “But… before, you spoke of him as… a guest.”

Ah. Damn it all. This was Byakuya’s fault, after all. Why should the staff think to treat Renji any better than he had? Byakuya would have thought the funeral arrangements would have made it clear how important Renji had become, but, no doubt, the servants were uncertain how to proceed now that Renji lumbered around the estate—alive and untidy and complicated and very unlike the sort considered a suitable companion the manor’s lord.

Byakuya pinched the space between his eyes, sensing a headache coming on. He released his roiling fury with a sigh. 

Quietly and patiently, he explained, “Things between Renji and I have… evolved, Eishirō. I would have you treat Lieutenant Abarai as an extension of myself.” The steward’s eyes grew very wide at that, but he nodded in understanding. Byakuya waved him to his feet. “Get up. Rukia and I will take breakfast on the bed. I will leave it to you to find a way to make amends to the Lieutenant, and then we will speak no more of it.” Byakuya sighed. “Please tell me I have nothing else on the agenda today. I would dearly love to spend the remainder of the day with Renji, undisturbed.”

Eishirō got up and returned the tea tray to the bed. He poured Byakuya a bowl of tea. “There is the matter of your family, my lord.”

Byakuya took the tea gratefully, but gave Eishirō a curious, pained look at the mention of his relations. “Oh?”

“Yes, word has spread of your injuries. The Lady Masami Kuchiki has asked for an audience, as have several dozen cousins and others.”

Byakuya groaned inwardly. Not one of them would have come to bury Rukia, and now they thought to descend upon him like a horde of locusts. “Very well, you may arrange their visits. But, not today, and not all at once. Space them out as far apart as possible. And, if I must suffer through them, they must likewise endure Rukia’s presence at my side. Coordinate with her schedule so she may be in attendance. Also, you and I will prearrange a signal so I can feign exhaustion should the need arise.”

A slight smile returned to Eishirō’s face, “Understood, my lord.”

“Good. Now let Rukia through,” Byakuya said. As Eishirō bowed to do Byakuya’s bidding, he added, “But, Eishirō do not ever think to kick Renji out of my bed again. That’s for me to do.”

The steward smiled, though a deep blush colored his face as he bowed deeply. “I understand, my lord.”

#

Rukia, for some reason, was in a quiet mood and Byakuya found himself in the uncomfortable-- and, frankly deeply unnatural-- position of having to make conversation. “You’re well?” he finally asked.

She took a moment to swallow the smoked salmon she’d bitten into, and then nodded, “Yes. You?”

Byakuya frowned. He broke a quail’s egg over his rice, and mixed it in. This was why he preferred Renji’s company in the morning. No talking required. Renji would fill the empty spaces or not, depending on his mood. Regardless, there was no pressure to keep up some kind of inane chatter. If nothing else, watching Renji eat was always… entertaining. Byakuya tried to recall if Rukia used to eat like that, with extreme vigor and the impression that if everything wasn’t consumed quickly it might run away. He remembered teaching her certain high-level dining etiquette, but… no, no one ate quite like Renji did.

As he suppressed a fond smile at thoughts of Renji, Byakuya tried to remember where they were in the conversation. Surely she’d asked after his health, or perhaps his evening? “I slept very well,” Byakuya said, taking a sip of soup. “Like the proverbial rock. I seem to be on the mend, if maddeningly slowly.”

Rukia nodded, pushing the food around on her plate. Byakuya helped himself to a third bowl of tea and refilled hers. This was awful; their silence. Normally, Rukia was eager to share the details of her life or take the opportunity to ask him about his. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She blinked out of her reverie, and said, “What do you mean?”

“Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about Kaien lately,” Rukia said.

Ah, yes, that disaster. Byakuya still hadn’t entirely forgiven Ukitake for not killing his errant lieutenant himself. The captain’s illness was no excuse in Byakuya’s opinion. He should have died doing his duty, protecting those under his command. Ukitake was the captain, after all, and Rukia was barely seated at the time. It should never have been her responsibility to kill a superior officer, especially one she desperately admired. Ukitake was damn lucky that Rukia was strong enough and skilled enough to kill someone at a lieutenant level or the whole event could have been that much worse.

Looking at Rukia’s tight frown, Byakuya’s heart ached. He should have protected her from that horror—the burden of having to kill the monster her dear friend and mentor had become. Byakuya long suspected that Kaien was Rukia’s first blood, first real kill. That thought just made him angrier about the whole situation. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said quietly. “It’s your duty to protect the Soul Society at any cost. You did that admirably.”

“Yeah,” she said, finally taking a bite of rice. “But I killed someone’s brother.”

“We all do. It is, in fact, what we train to do.”

She looked at him then, shaking her head. “I’d rather kill Hollows.”

“Even they belonged to someone once, Rukia.”

Byakuya waited for her to say more, but, despite their conversation, she now seemed to be staring rather fixedly at Zabimaru. She could hardly keep her eyes off where Renji’s distinctive zanpaktō was propped against the wall beside the bed.

“Renji is at the hot springs, apparently washing a lifetime’s worth of grime off himself,” Byakuya explained with a sigh. “You’d think he’d be back by now.”

“Oh,” she said, her eyes sliding away from the zanpaktō almost guiltily, “Right.”

Perhaps he should explain why Zabimaru was here, in his private rooms? It occurred to Byakuya that, while he had hinted at the fact that he’d taken a lover, he never exactly got around to explaining precisely who it was. 

Had Renji said anything to Rukia? Byakuya took a long swallow of tea. Even though Renji was the more outgoing of the two of them, Byakuya couldn’t expect Renji to shoulder this particular responsibility in their relationship. Rukia was Byakuya’s sister. He should be the one to tell her. He cleared his throat. “You do know, of course, about Renji and me?”

“Nii-sama!” she flustered. She blushed so furiously, she almost dropped her chopsticks.

“I would understand if you disapprove,” Byakuya said, setting down his tea bowl to look her in the eye. “He is my subordinate. I have no plans to transfer him, which makes me guilty of fraternization. I’m afraid I can’t swear my intentions are entirely honorable--how could anyone hope to settle such a man? You know him better than I do, but I suspect that to love Renji Abarai is to spend a lot of time letting him go, to roam free.”

Rukia’s big purple eyes blinked rapidly. “Love?”

“Did I use that word?” Byakuya asked, startled.

She gave him a slow, shy smile, “I’m pretty sure you did.”

“Oh. Well. I see.” Byakuya straightened some of the baskets on the tray while he tried to order his suddenly jumbled thoughts. “I meant that figuratively, of course.”

“Of course, you did,” she agreed with a knowing sort of smirk.

#

With effort, Byakuya managed to steer the rest of their conversation way from the subject of his feelings—accidental or otherwise—for Renji. Rukia let him, though he noticed she occasionally looked at him with a curious sort of sparkle in her eye. For her part, Rukia seemed to finally relax after her second bowl of tea, and was now talking breathlessly about her concerns about her friends, Lieutenants Kira and Hinamori. 

Aio had just come in to clear away the remains of their breakfast when sounds of voices could be heard from just beyond the suite. 

“Yeah, but my clothes are in there and I’m freezing!” Renji’s voice boomed out, clear as day. 

The quieter, insistent tone could only be Eishirō.

Byakuya sat back, resting against the headboard. This should be an interesting show. Eishirō was in a conundrum. How to treat Renji like the manor’s lord, when Renji was acting nothing like Byakuya ever would in a million years?

Rukia and Aio stared unabashedly at the closed door, as if waiting to see what would happen as well. 

Finally, the door slid open only wide enough for Eishirō to slink through. He slid it shut again instantly, and then stood with his back to the interior of the room for a long moment. He hung on to the door, his head bowed as though in deep concentration or trying to will the wild beast on the other side to stay put and behave. Byakuya had to stifle a smile, as he thought, _Good luck with that._

Apparently satisfied, Eishirō turned around finally. “Sir,” he bowed lightly. “Ma’am, pardon the interruption.”

Then he marched resolutely, with his head held high, to the far side of Byakuya’s bed. Ducking down, Eishirō gathered up the pile of Renji’s clothes he’d apparently stashed under the bed at some point, and tucked them under one arm. Every eye in the room followed the steward’s movements. Rukia had to duck her face behind her sleeve to hold back the laughter. A tiny giggle escaped when, attempting to be dignified, Eishirō dropped Renji’s sandals—not once, but five times.

Byakuya decided this whole scene was too funny not to add to the steward’s discomfort. He reached out to where Zabimaru was propped beside the bed. “Eishirō,” he called, though he waited until the steward had reached the door. “Have you forgotten something?”

The steward’s utterly mortified expression at the thought of having to return for anything easily made up for this morning’s unpleasantness, Byakuya thought. As did all the laughter, which was compounded when Renji stuck his head in to see what was going on. 

#

Renji tried to get Rukia to stay and ‘hang out’ with them, but she exchanged one last smirking look with Byakuya and made her excuses. Apparently, she had plans to check in on her friends, and she promised to return with news once she had any.

Despite Eishirō’s strenuous efforts on the lieutenant’s behalf, Renji hadn’t dressed. He still wore his tattered cherry blossom robe. His deep crimson hair fell loosely to his shoulders, heavy with wetness. Only a few of the dark tattoos on Renji’s forehead were visible through the thick curtain of hair. Currently, Renji busied himself setting up a little nest of blankets and pillows near the fire pit in middle of the sitting room, as the storm continued to batter at the windows.

“’Hang out’?” Byakuya repeated tersely, as Renji came back to offer a hand to help him get out of bed. “I’m quite certain Kuchikis don’t engage in such activities. I’m not even sure I know what it means.”

“Bull,” Renji said simply, tucking an arm around Byakuya’s back to add support as they took slow, measured steps across the tatami, “ You noble-types know all about it. Think of hanging out as a tea ceremony without a point… or those tiny, fancy cakes.”

“I see,” Byakuya said, noting the slight edge in Renji’s tease. 

But, Renji’s smile was easy when he placed a kiss on the top of Byakuya’s head and replied, “Yeah, so you’ve got this, Taicho. But you can feel free to turn to me for expert advice. I’m pretty sure Abarais were bred for lying about. That, and drinking.”

Byakuya tried to smile in response, but it annoyed him how winded he was by the time they reached the area Renji had prepared near the fire. Renji wordlessly anticipated what Byakuya needed and loaned his strength to help lower Byakuya carefully to the floor. Once Byakuya was settled, Renji ran back to the bed and fetched another blanket. He returned and draped it over Byakuya’s shoulders. Renji paused. He was on his knees with his hands holding the edges of the cloth closed just below Byakuya’s throat, and he tugged on the blanket lightly to draw Byakuya into a deep kiss.

Renji was… an enthusiastic kisser. What he lacked in skill and finesse, he made up in passion. It was, however, quite disconcerting for Byakuya to have to tip his head up so dramatically in order to meet Renji’s lips. Fortunately, Renji had a way of overwhelming Bykauya’s senses so completely that he thought of nothing but tongue and taste and that fascinating, frightening growling sound that seemed to come unconsciously from the back of Renji’s throat. Likewise, Renji’s reistsu vibrated against his skin—always urgent, ever eager. 

Byakuya was completely swept up in the moment… until heavy strands of cold, wet hair brushed against his closed eyes and forehead. The chilly tickle made Byakuya flinch back, breaking their kiss.

He swiped at his face, finding a long piece of bright red hair actually stuck to his cheek. Byakuya peeled it off, and sneered at what he held between pinched fingers, “Ugh.”

Renji gave him a toothy smile, as he let go of the blanket and settled into crossed legs. “You think that’s gross? You should see some of the places I’ve pulled your hair out of. Once I found a whole wad wrapped around my--”

“Renji!” Byakuya said. “Please. A little decorum.”

Renji laughed, “I have no idea what that is, you know. Decorum.”

Byakuya sighed. “Believe me, that’s patently obvious.”

Fluffing up a pillow, Renji settled it against Byakuya’s knee. He stretched out his long body, and laid his head partly on the pillow and Byakuya’s thigh. His still wet hair soaked slightly into Byakuya’s kimono, and Renji wiggled his toes near the charcoal embers. The rain continued to tap staccato drum beats on the glass of the skylight that had been propped open to vent the smoke.

Byakuya rested a hand across Renji’s chest, while the other absently tried to make order out of the chaos of ruby red locks. “You’re a mess,” Byakuya remarked.

Renji grunted an acknowledgment.

Byakuya shook his head in silent dismay at the two of them. Fate must have a wicked sense of humor indeed, to keep entangling Byakuya with people so drastically unsuited for him. Hisana, at least, had been trained in a vast array of charms and social graces. Byakuya, could, in fact, take her anywhere. 

This one… Byakuya sighed, as he untangled another clump of Renji’s hair. At least Renji had the protection of rank. Byakuya’s family always sought to wound Hisana by reminding her of her low birth. She, they would tell her, was only elevated through marriage to a nobleman. Renji might come from the same low station, but no one could shame him by implying he didn’t deserve his current position on his own merit. Renji had fought tooth and nail to be a vice-captain. That power would always be his. No one could take it away from him. He would always be his own man, with or without Byakuya.

There was some comfort in that.

Not that the family could ever find a way to approve of this particular union. It was, far more than anything he’d done with Hisana, truly “illegal,” at least in terms of military regulations. The pressure he and Renji could potentially face would eclipse all the difficulty with Hisana by orders of magnitude. 

“You know where I’d be sixty odd years ago?” Renji asked, apropos of nothing, his eyes watching the rain spattering the glass overhead.

“Where?” Byakuya asked.

“Naked in the street,” he smiled. 

“Oh?”

He nodded. “A driving rain like this? This was bathing weather in Inuzuri. You’d find a relatively dry place to stash your clothes and then hope some resourceful grandma had a secret cache of soap to share. Sometimes there’d be dozens of us in the street. Kind of a poor man’s ‘skinship,’ you know? Because later we might all end up in some squat around a pile of kindling, buck naked while drying off. We’d sing songs and pass time until the storm blew over,” he chucked with the memory. “Good times.”

It was shocking to hear a story like this—a happy one—from Renji’s past. Byakuya didn’t want to ruin the moment by expressing his horror at the idea that it sounded as if there wasn’t gender division, and that somehow men and women were all washing together. So, instead, he said, “That sounds…” well, he couldn’t say ‘nice’ about anything that transpired in Inuzuri, could he? “…interesting.”

Renji glanced at Byakuya’s face, and, seeing the truth there, let out a short dark laugh. “Yeah. It was very ‘interesting.’ I suppose you’d be practicing calligraphy or something, huh?”

“Sixty years ago on a rainy day? No, I’d be in bed, making love.”

“Hey, we’d both be naked,” Renji smiled and gave Byakuya a gesture of approval. “Awesome.”

“At last, common ground,” Byakuya teased, his hand lightly stroking Renji’s chest. “That’s what I’d planned for today, honestly. Though last night taught me I probably haven’t the stamina.”

Renji sat up, and ran a finger along the edge of Byakuya’s face. “You know, there’s still a world of gentle we haven’t explored. We could kiss a little, nap a little, kiss some more…. Rinse and repeat. We don’t always have to be in a hurry to get to the finish line, you know.”

“Oh I see,” Byakuya said in reaction to Renji’s light admonishing tone. “You think I’m the anxious one?”

“Aren’t you? You’re certainly the kinky one. And, anyway, I can go more than once a day.”

Byakuya shook his head at what for any other man would be a boasting exaggeration. “I’m sure you can. Your endurance is… inhuman.”

Renji just smiled wider. Grabbing a hold of the blankets around Byakuya’s shoulders, Renji pulled them both down on to the pile of blankets. His calloused hands slid under the blankets, snagging as they slipped down along Byakuya’s kimono. “Zabimaru and I take that as a compliment, you know.”

“Mmmm,” Byakuya murmured as Renji nuzzled up against his neck, “I know.”

Surprisingly, Renji seemed content to do exactly as promised. His hands explored the contours of Byakuya’s back and shoulders, as he kissed face and neck, but he carefully shied away from anything that might stir too much passion. And, then, after a few moments of this, Renji pulled back to lie on his back. He found a pillow to lay his head on, and pulled Byakuya closer so that Byakuya could spoon up against his side. 

Renji must have been paying close attention to Byakuya’s spiritual pressure, because it had been just the right amount of activity. Gratefully, Byakuya laid his head against Renji’s broad chest and listened to the soft sound of his heart beating. In a moment, he was asleep, warm and content.

**Author's Note:**

> This got long, so there will be sex in the next installment.


End file.
